It's cold, Zoe has lost track of time, but she guesses that it has to be at least ten or eleven pm. The only part of her that is actually warm is her hand clasped in John's.

"Which way?"

He tells her that they need to find a road.

They need to get out of there. Zoe can tell that John is really feeling his injury. He's hurting and there's nothing she can do about it.

It's so cold, that the sound of the helicopter doesn't register at first. Then they hear it.

Somehow Zoe knows that this is not a good development. "We need to hide." She looks around frantically, something is coming up the road, she can see two sets of headlights, the chopper is behind them. It's the beach or the pond and there's no cover.

"We have to swim for it." He says.

This is a nightmare, and she isn't sure she is going to wake up from it. There was a small dock, she leads him out onto the dock, and they quietly slip into the water. It's freezing.

"This is insane." Her teeth are chattering so hard she can barely speak.

"No choice." He's slurring his words, and the cold can't be good for his head injury. They can hear the shouts behind them, so they really do have no choice at all.

John swims slowly, Zoe easily keeping pace with him. Feeling like a little tugboat next to an ocean going liner steering him. When this is over, she is going to have a holiday. Somewhere warm.

Thankfully, the opposite shore isn't far, and it's also comfortingly dark. Zoe looks around, and slips on her high heels again. Everything is ruined, but shoes on her feet, however impractical and water-damaged, are better than her bare toes on the hard and stony ground.

"Telephone." She says to John. It's not a question, more a demand. He's swaying, and she realizes that while the swim may have taken them out of immediate danger from the people she can just about make out on the other shore, the cold and being wet through have taken a serious toll on John's reserves.

Zoe takes his arm then and drapes it over her shoulders again, mashes her body up to his, slides her arm around his waist. Some shared bodily warmth, a positive mental attitude, and she hopes that a casual glance at the two of them looks like a loved up couple out for a stroll.

It doesn't take her long to figure out that John's calm stoicism is concealing the extent of his injuries. Aside from his sight, she can tell his balance has been affected, the cold swim has done nothing good for his head injury. Silently she promises him that a warm bed and plenty of tlc is his in the immediate future if only he can manage to keep going now.

Now the only warm part of her is the side that is mashed up to John. Being crushed that close to Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome is having an effect on her own psyche. She's a hard-nosed business woman. John's an asset that she won't hesitate to exploit.

Until he took a hit for her. The blow that felled him would probably have crushed her skull, killing her instantly. That it didn't kill John was probably the height and angle difference.

John stumbles. Now she's really scared. A thousand things run through her mind, and suddenly she's a little girl again, losing her father. Something warm runs down her cheek, it takes a while for her to realize that it's a tear. She's crying, and Zoe never cries. She doesn't even know if her tears are for herself or the exhausted, injured man that she's trying to prop up.

John is freezing cold, his head is pounding, his vision is a little better, the outlines are less fuzzy, but they are still only outlines. He wants to stop being a burden to Zoe. He knows that it's only a matter of time before someone figures out that they crossed the pond.

"Leave me." He says, gritting his teeth to get the words out.

"WHAT!" It's almost a shriek, but she catches it at the last second, not wanting to draw attention to them. She half turns in his arm, her free hand goes to his chest, he can feel the spread of her fingers through the damp material. "I'm not leaving you." She sounds pissed, he almost smiles at that. "I leave you, and they catch you and kill you, and then you are on my conscience for the rest of my life." She shakes her head, the movement is a blur to John, "we are in this together. To the bitterly cold end."

He actually does smile at that. He's about to fall on his face, and he can still find the energy to smile. Zoe doesn't know whether to kiss him or kill him.

Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome is making her feel things that she has resolutely avoided feeling her entire life. Dammit.

She is freezing cold, and she knows that this cold is sapping her strength too. They need to find a phone now, John needs to contact his people, and they need to get out of this mess.

They continue across the sand, to reach the street, which curves around towards the beach. If there's going to be a phone anywhere, there is bound to be one on the beachfront.


Finch knows that something has gone really wrong, he also knows that Reese and Zoe were headed towards Greenport. Accessing the cameras in another jurisdiction was a headache he really didn't need.

As a scientist and programmer, Harold Finch really doesn't like the concept of a hunch. That belongs to the dubious delights of the detective novel. Scientists dealt in proof.

Right now Harold Finch is dealing in a hunch because this is his partner, and John Reese is the most predictable, unpredictable operative he's ever dealt with. It doesn't occur to Harold at this moment that John Reese is the only ex-CIA/Special Ops soldier he's ever dealt with. Nor does it matter that John's supposed to be his employee. Harold cares. He never meant to care that much, but he does and there it is.

Mercifully, he finds the camera feeds fairly simple to access. The cameras themselves don't provide as much coverage, but he can extrapolate.


Zoe finds a phone. But it's beneath a street light, right out there in the open. Logically, the moment they walk out into that light, they will be exposed. They are cold, exhausted, and John cannot see. Help is in sight, but getting to it is a risk.

Zoe calculates risk every day. But this is a bit different. She doesn't give a damn who is after them, and what these people might want. She's just following the most primal need an animal has. To get to sanctuary.

She can't see anyone lurking out there. She has no doubt, that John would be able to see and calculate the threat, but since John can't see, they are going to have to go on her judgment.

Aching with fear, Zoe steps away from the cover of the shadows thrown by the building. There's no one about, it must be a lot later than she calculated.

She has lost all track of time now, she only knows that the longer they stay out, the harder it is to keep moving and stay awake. If they stop and sleep, they're dead.

They reach the phone, if he could see, John would be able to do something with the wiring, but in his condition, they will be lucky if he can get the number. Zoe's fingers are stiff with cold. John is barely awake, and running on empty, but somehow she rouses him enough to get a number. She dials it. Hears it ring. Hopes that John's imaginary friend can work out that it has to be them, someone answers and the pips cut in.

The moment of truth.